Just Mates?
by Carriex3
Summary: Donna's wrist injury leaves her unable to complete the most common of tasks, including brushing her hair. So The Doctor, being the man that he is, steps in to help her. Fluff ensues.


"Donna?" The Doctor set off down the hallway of the TARDIS toward Donna's room at the sound of something hard hitting one of the walls. "Donna!" he called again when he received no reply. "Are you alright?"

He reached her room in seconds, knocking twice before asking if he could come in.

"Ah… Yeah." She sounded defeated, and rightfully so; she had been awake for almost twenty-four Earth hours, still buzzing with adrenaline from their latest escapade.

Upon entering, he saw Donna seated on her bed, hair wild and her cheeks flustered. Once he saw she was in no way injured (apart from the splint on her hand) and in no danger, he couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at her disheveled appearance.

"Oi, watch it, it's your fault I'm having trouble," she said, surprisingly calm.

"And what did I do this time?" He leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're the one that wanted that bloody smoothie so bad," she retorted, her voice rising.

The Doctor sobered immediately, his ears turning the slightest bit red. He wasn't exactly sure what it was specifically that was upsetting Donna, but he figured it had to do with the hand injury of hers that he had accidentally been the cause of.

He had been asking her all morning if she would make him one of her special banana smoothies (it was something she enjoyed doing for him, and a small way to repay him for all he did for her), and when she finally agreed, he decided to trail her around the kitchen, determined to learn just exactly how she made the drink taste so perfect. He had followed too closely behind her though; she reached into the refrigerator at the same moment he tripped over her leg and crashed into the door, closing her hand inside of it. He had looked her over, assuring her that there were no broken bones, but he still put a splint on her wrist despite her protests.

"What is it that's upsetting you?" he asked her now, hoping he would be able to help.

"Oh, I don't know… Maybe it's this bit of plastic and metal keeping me from using my own hand…"

"Donna," he warned in that tone that indicated she was pushing it. But he sort of liked it when she did. He liked the fact that she didn't hang on his every word, or do exactly as she was told. Simply put, she was a challenge, and The Doctor loved a good challenge.

"…Or maybe it's the fact that for the next day or two I won't be able to do anything with my right hand. That's the hand I write with, you know, among other things."

"Come on now, you know I feel terrible. Tell me what it is you're upset about and maybe I can help."

Donna sighed. "I can't brush my hair. I've been trying, but it keeps getting all tangled…"

The Doctor chuckled again and approached the bed, pushing the tangled strands of hair out of her face. A shiver crept its way down her spine at his touch, but she ignored it.

"I can help with that, if you'd like," he said softly, and she realized his hand was still in her hair. She swallowed hard.

"Yeah, sure…"

"Where is your brush?" he asked, not noticing Donna's sigh of relief when his hand left her hair. She had no idea why she was suddenly reacting this way to his touch. Maybe it was the intimacy of what he was about to do for her. Yes, she was sure that was it.

"It's um, in the corner over there." She waved her left hand in the direction she was referring to. "I got a little frustrated and threw it…"

"Ah," The Doctor said as he went to retrieve it. "I take it that's the bang I heard earlier?"

Donna blushed, her cheeks momentarily matching her hair. "Probably."

The Doctor chuckled again and took a seat beside her on the mattress, his hands poised over her head.

"Oh, go on then!"

The Doctor's hands settled once more in her soft, crimson curls and she unconsciously gravitated toward him, her back barely inches from his chest. He pulled the brush gently through the curls, trying hard to avoid snagging the bristles on a particularly stubborn snarl.

Donna let out a barely audible "Mmm" of pleasure, hoping as soon as it left her mouth that The Doctor had not heard it.

A silence fell between them, but it was comfortable. Donna sat with her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of her hair being so delicately handled. The Doctor's touch was light yet firm, sending the most delicious tingling throughout her body. It startled her, the way she was responding to him.

The Doctor pulled the brush through Donna's hair, his fingers combing through after every stroke. He silently remarked to himself how beautiful her hair was, all fiery and wild, such a reflection of her personality. He considered telling her this, but decided against it for fear she might run off, and never again allow him to be this close to her.

And Donna, she was certain there was something wrong with her; she had to consciously make sure another purr of contentment didn't make it past her lips. There were just too many conflicting emotions inside of her that were battling for dominance.

"Ah, there you are," The Doctor said when he'd finished, placing the brush on Donna's small bedside table. Donna turned to face him, he cheeks once again a deep pink. She cleared her throat.

"Thank you." She stood awkwardly, nearly tripping over her own feet in an effort to get to the door. Air. That was all she needed. A little fresh air to clear her mind. And then she remembered that they were hovering in the Time Vortex, so fresh air was out of the question.

"Wait, Donna." The Doctor sounded almost hurt. Surely she couldn't be hearing him right. "Where are you going?" he questioned softly. His eyes searched her face for an explanation of her odd behavior.

Donna exhaled sharply, gave a weak smile, and returned to her spot beside him on the bed.

"No where. I'm sorry, Doctor. That was all... I mean, you brushing my hair, touching me like that... it was very intimate." Her voice was just above a whisper by the end of that statement.

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, and Donna silenced him by continuing.

"But I liked it, and that's what made me uncomfortable."

"If you were uncomfortable, why didn't you stop me?"

"Because I _liked _it."

"Then _why _were you uncomfortable?" he demanded. Never had The Doctor been more confused. Donna let out an exasperated sigh when she realized she was going to have to explain herself. The Doctor was a genius, but sometimes he could be very thick.

"Because we're just _mates_. This sort of thing... it's not supposed to happen."

The Doctor put his arm around her waist, tightening his hold on her when she showed no objection.

"Why not?"

"It makes things complicated." The Doctor began to rub small circles on her hip with his thumb.

"Are they? Are things complicated now, Donna?" She noticed how he used her name even though she was the only other person around. She thought about his question, becoming so deep in thought that she barely realized his thumb rubbing over her hip had turned into his index finger tracing intricate spirals and lines over he back.

"Not yet," she said breathily, gently shuddering under his touch. She should pull away, she thought. Pull away and slap him for thinking he could put his hands all over her without permission. She was so relaxed under his touch that the thought of worrying about anything became inconceivable. Her eyes began to close, and at that moment, all she wanted to do was curl up against The Doctor and _sleep_. It occurred to a small part of her mind that perhaps she should question this sudden desire.

"Oi... What sort of mind tricks are you playing on me?" She forced her eyes to open and focus on The Doctor's face. He stared at her with a blank expression.

"I"m not doing anything, Donna." There he went again, saying her name when he didn't have to. She wished he would stop, but it sounded so _special _coming from his lips.

"Hmph..."

But of course, she believed him.

"You look exhausted," he said softly, removing himself from the bed and pulling back the covers so Donna could crawl beneath them. She did so silently, turning onto her side and curling her knees up to her chest. The Doctor took a few steps toward the door.

"Wait..." came Donna's voice from under the blankets.

"Yes?"

"Don't leave." Her voice was so soft that he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. But when he looked down at her, he found her gazing up at him, holding the covers aside for him to slide in beside her. Donna backed against The Doctor as soon as he was in her bed, and his arms enveloped her protectively.

"You never answered my question, you know," he reminded her a few minutes later.

Silence.

When Donna didn't respond after a few moments, The Doctor craned his neck to look at her face; she was fast asleep. Questions could wait for now, he decided. All that mattered right now was that she got the sleep that she needed.

The Doctor smiled and pulled Donna closer.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, my first piece of DoctorDonna fluff... What do you think? Thanks for reading!**


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